He is small and delicate, a flower in my arms
Giggles and coos--little tooth buds arising from his gums
I breathe in his sweet scent:
Baby lotion, warmth and milk
He is a treasure, a gift from above
He is my son.
She is an adult, full-grown--off aside, out of the way
Empty, sad eyes looking at the ground
Stooped shoulders, old broken clothes
Hair matted with dirt and sweat
Yet, she too is a treasure, a gift from above
Just like my son.
How often do I shirk from her, oh my father God?
Was there ever someone who held her close as I do my son?
Coos and smiles, sweet scents and beauty
Are easy to hold, to love, to adore
I want to with Your eyes and Your heart see